Page 122 of (Not) The One
‘It’s not for you.’
‘I say we’re not suited. You ask me to move in!’
‘You’re clearly not listening.’
‘Oh, I am. My issue is that I don’t understand.’ I push my hands through my hair then let them drop to my lap. ‘Why buy me a house and then ask me to move into this one?’
‘Let’s unpack this for a minute. You need to move out of your parents’ house, correct?’
‘Yes,’ I answer carefully. The same kind of careful as when, mid-stride, you find yourself about to step in a puddle of rainwater. You’re in such a position that you can’t do anything but carry on and step in it, but you hope it doesn’t soak you right up to the shin.
‘And you no longer have the pet sitting job, which means both less income and more time at home.’
‘Thank you for the reminder. Thisisa happy conversation.’
‘It’s a necessary one because, if you’ll forgive me for saying so, living at your childhood home is detrimental to your health.’ He’s right, I know he is. I can literally feel my blood pressure rise the minute I step through the door. That can’t be good for our little Haribo.
‘But you also have the chance to move into a beautiful chocolate box worthy house.’
‘Urgh. Not this again.’
‘But this charming abode won’t settle ownership for at least another six weeks. Possibly even eight.’
‘So?’
‘So you can’t move in until then.’
‘Who said I was moving in at all?’
‘You will. You’re a bright woman, when all is said and done.’
‘Do you think I’m bright, or desperate?
‘You want what’s best for the baby,’ he says, ignoring my attitude, ‘and right now, that means doing the best thing for you.’
My response is a dissatisfied sound that is pure Marge Simpson.
‘And here I am, living in this great big house. All alone. With so many empty rooms. And a bed just crying out for you.’
‘You seem to have managed quite well on your own so far.’ I sit back, my spine now pressed against the arm of the sofa. ‘
‘How do you know what happened before you, well, happened.’
‘I suppose you’re going to tell me you cried yourself to sleep alone every night?’
‘No. Just like you, I have a past. A past that barely registers. A past that doesn’t matter.’
‘Also, did you not just hear me say I don’t like being in your house? That it makes me feel like Cinderella or the chambermaid who the lord and master got up the duff?’
‘I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.’ I’m not surprised. I don’t feel very dignified myself. ‘But if you move in, live here, it’ll become easier. Think of it as exposure therapy.’
Like spending more time with him in order not to want him? Yes, because that’s already worked out so well. I’m practically repulsed by him. But at least I have another eighteen years to get it right.
‘There’s another good reason behind my suggestion.’
‘I’m almost afraid to ask.’
‘Having you around would, well, help.’
